


Shattered

by righteousgonewrong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, dean goes to an lgbt youth support group, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:45:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3766879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righteousgonewrong/pseuds/righteousgonewrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean tries to seek out support for personal matters. Emphasis on 'tries'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

Dean's palms were sweating.

To most people that may not seem like a huge thing, but Dean's palms didn't sweat. Sweaty palms meant a slippery grip, and a slippery grip on a knife or gun during a hunt meant getting his heart ripped out by a vamp or ghoul. 

But this wasn't a hunt.

No, what he was about to do was far more terrifying than staring down a werewolf armed with a silver plated fork. So terrifying that he honestly considered giving up right then and there. And Dean Winchester never gave up.

I mean, what would Sam say if he knew where Dean was? Dean cringed, imagining the smug look his brother would give him if he ever found out. What would his _Dad_ say?

Which was why he was here. Standing outside the Youth and Recreation Centre of whatever town it was they were staying in, debating whether or not to attend their monthly LGBT youth meeting.

He had wanted to get to one of these things since he had found out about them, and since he had found out about himself. Of course, he hadn't been trying all that hard. Just a quick internet search for dates and times whenever they rolled into a new town, quickly determining whether it was possible for him to slip away without Sam or his Dad getting suspicious.

Not that Sam finding out about his, uh, preferences would be all too horrible. He was pretty sure the worst Sam would do was tease him. But there was always the possibility that he was wrong, that Sam would think it was weird or gross, and as much as he felt like he didn't deserve it he couldn't bear to lose the idol worship his little brother always showed him. 

Besides, the kid knew more about Dean than the rest of the world combined. He didn't need to give him any more of his secrets.

His Dad finding out, now that was something to fear. John wasn't unreasonable or cruel. Not intentionally, at least. But he was stubborn and stuck in the past, and rarely changed his mind. The topic of homosexuality had only come up a few times, but it was enough for Dean to predict what his Dad's reaction would be to any kind of coming out announcement.

It was hard finding someone to tell a secret to when the only family he had was a stubborn, conservative father and a little brother he didn't dare risk messing things up with. 

But he felt like he needed to tell someone. It had been growing on him ever since he first realized that it wasn't normal to check out other guys in the locker rooms, to imagine kissing one, to want to bend one over and--

Well, you get the point.

So here he was. Standing in front of the large, glass doors that would hopefully be the door to freedom. Freedom to be himself, to be honest for once. Opening this door was like opening a door to self-acceptance. With this in mind, he gave the door a quick shove.

It stuck. 

He flushed, moving away from the locked door to the one next to it. That one swung open with ease and he ducked through it, scratching his neck and glancing around to see if anyone had noticed.

It wasn't much, but it was the first crack in his fragile hopes and fantasies.

And a few more seconds in the building shattered the remainder of those hopes. He had thought this place would be different, somehow. That there would be this warm, open atmosphere so different from the cold, judging stares he felt on him everywhere else.

What a fucking girl he was.

All he found was a roomful of people staring at him. 

It was just like when teachers singled him out whenever they were forced into a new school. A bunch of unfamiliar faces staring at him, a crowd of piercing, prying eyes working to tear away every facade and mask he ever put up. 

"Are you here for the LGBT support group?" an older woman asked kindly. 

But even though her voice was soft, she still had those same eyes, the kind that push and prod at your secrets, forcefully dragging them into the light. 

He didn't mean to say what came out next. But when people are put in familiar positions they fall back on familiar habits.

"I just figured it'd be a good place to find chicks for a threesome," he offered up with a grin that took a bit too long to spread across his face.

They sent him away, threatening to report him for harassment if he ever tried to crash another meeting. 

He had scoffed and told them it didn't matter. They would be gone in another week anyways. Not that he would've tried again anyways, if he could. He had slammed his big, open door in his own face and locked in behind him.

There was a familiar sense of hesitation as his hand (not sweaty this time) hovered over the cheap wooden handle on the equally cheap wooden door of the motel. If he went in the way he was now, Sam would know something was wrong. He always did, perceptive little brat.

Just as his hand dropped from the door, it swung open. 

Speak of the devil.

"Where were you, Dean?" Inquisitive hazel eyes stared up at him, those eyes that always seemed to know more than he wanted them to. 

But not this. 

"Just grabbin' a drink," he lied, lifting the bottle of whiskey out of his pocket like it was some kind of trophy instead of a cheap consolation prize.

Sam's face dropped into a frown. Dean did his best to meet his brother's eyes--just as prying as the earlier crowd, but different because it was Sam--forcing himself to look bored with a hint of a smirk.

He didn't know if Sam bought it. And to be honest, he wasn't sober enough to care. All he cared about right now was locking himself in his room with a bottle of J.P. Wiser's until he forgot about the whole situation. 

So that's what he did. Sam never asked, and by the time John returned to move them away Dean was all smirks and "yessir"s. 

And that's just how it was going to be.


End file.
